The Dragon Has Three Heads
by ulalumeterpsichore
Summary: Princess Rhaenys Targaryen was not killed that fateful day in King's Landing. With the help of a White Knight of the Kingsguard, she is whisked away to begin her life as Lady Nymeria Sand, the bastard daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell. But now the last dragons are rising around the world and with a claim to the throne, she demands vengeance for her family.
1. Nymeria I

**This story is Canon Divergent.**

 **Rated M For Future Chapters.** **  
 **Trigger Warning: Violence, Death, Sex and General Adult Content.**  
**

 ** **These triggers are for later on in the story. If other triggers appear, I will mention them in a note beforehand.****

 ** **The first chapter of this story features dialogue from 'The Watcher' chapter of A Dance With Dragons quite heavily.  
It will diverge more greatly after this first chapter.****

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own or claim to own anything from the A Song of Ice and Fire Series. All of it belongs to George RR Martin.

* * *

 **The Dragon Has Three Heads**

By _ulalumeterpsichore_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Nymeria I

* * *

Nymeria Sand stared at the _supposed_ head of her father's murderer. She could hear her Uncle speak gravely, declaring that The Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane, rode no more. She still held her reservations though. Looks could be deceiving – a fact she was well versed in – and the fact that the Lannisters may lie and deceive the Prince of Dorne had been well discussed between her and her _sisters_.

Tyene spoke softly and sweetly to the Kingsguard who delivered the head. "Was his dying long and hard, Ser Balon?"

Ser Balon Swann looked a little squeamish, whether from the question or the decapitated head on display in front of them all Nym was not sure. "He screamed for days, my lady. We could hear him all over the Red Keep."

Nymeria scoffed, demanding attention from the burly knight. He had failed to look at her since he had entered the Old Palace and she knew it was from the attire that she wore. Those from the other kingdoms had always been uncomfortable in her sense of dress. She liked to play on that discomfort, wield it like a weapon when she could not hide true weapons under the sheerness of her dress.

Today she wore a yellow silk dress. If she stood in the right lighting, as she did now, it was sheer enough to reveal the spun gold and jewels that she held underneath it. She couldn't hide any weapons underneath a dress this sheer. She normally kept a dozen blades upon her person but she could not today. Today was important to show a willingness to cooperate with the Lannisters and Baratheons that stole her family's throne.

That didn't mean that she wanted the White Knight to feel comfortable.

"Does that trouble you, ser?" she asked of Ser Balon. "Ser Gregor was a bloody brute, all men agree. If ever a man deserved to suffer, it was him."

 _I must not think of all I have lost at his hand,_ thought Nymeria. _I must not think._

"That is as it may be, my lady," Ser Balon replied. "But Ser Gregor was a knight, and a knight should die with a sword in hand. Poison is a foul and filthy way to kill."

Nym could feel Tyene smile pleasantly at that. Poison was Tyene's specialty. She had worked with their father to poison the man whose head now lay in front of them. She may look the most sweet and innocent of all of the Viper's daughters but anyone who truly knew her knew not to abide by her chaste persona. She could be as deadly as Obara if she wished to be. And death by her hand would always be slower and more painful than anything Obara lashed out.

Her uncle, Prince Doran, did not seem pleased with Ser Balon's assessment according to the frown on his face. "That is so, Ser Balon, but the Lady Nym is right. If ever a man deserved to die screaming, it was Gregor Clegane. He butchered my good sister, smashed her babe's head against a wall. I only pray that now he is burning in some hell, and that Elia and her children are at peace. This is the justice that Dorne has hungered for. I am glad that I lived long enough to taste it. At long last the Lannisters have proved the truth of their boast and paid this old blood debt."

Her uncle's words rang in her ears – _that Elia and her children are at peace._

There were many secrets that the Dornish kept. Even though the Martell's were an extremely close family, there were even some secrets that they could not reveal to each other. The secret of her very existence was one of those secrets. That Nymeria was not her true given name.

It had been a secret held between only herself and her father, Oberyn. Of course, Oberyn was not her real father. Her real father had died at the hands of Robert Baratheon, a blow from his warhammer had ended her father's life at the Trident. His last words for a woman that was neither his wife or his daughter. _For the other wife. The wolf woman._

Rhaenys Nymeria Rhaella Targaryen had been lucky. One of her family's White Knights had saved her. She could not remember his name. She could only remember his golden hair and white cloak. Nym had only been three years old at the time. He had coaxed her from out under her bed and replaced her with a peasant girl. Nym had heard what had happened to that girl. She had been stabbed to death, her body unrecognisable. It had been her safety. Her mother and brother had not been so lucky. It was the head that was displayed to them now that had bashed her baby brother's head against a wall and then raped and killed her mother.

Nymeria wanted to feel vengeance that justice had been served for her family. All she felt was unease. As a toast was held for the little Baratheon King, Nym could not toast. She refused to as did her sisters. Obara and Tyene wanted vengeance for Prince Oberyn. Nymeria wanted it for her whole family.

For all that she had lost.

Obara was not pleased at the toast directed to their enemies. She was sure that their uncle would reprimand them later for the display. But Nymeria thought it was just. Let those Knights, Lions and Stags squirm at the prospect of the Snakes of Sunspear. There would be a reckoning but they would not let their enemies be prepared.

Obara stormed out of the room in protest. Their cousin, Princess Arianne Martell, followed after her. Nymeria was glad. While she wanted to comfort and calm down her sister, it was far more important for her to stay in the room and listen to anything her Uncle or the White Knight had to say. Oberyn had taught her well. She needed to watch everything. Analyse everything so that one day, she could take her rightful place on the Iron Throne.

Whilst vengeance for Elia's death had been Oberyn's primary motivation for a long time, the welfare and safety of his niece had always been a priority. It had been his greatest wish to see her take the Iron Throne one day.

He had died before he was able to see that dream become a reality.

Nym would not let him down.

After their _father_ had died, Nymeria had to make a decision. Prince Oberyn had been the only one to know the secret of her birth. He had hidden her as one of his own daughters. He did not trust that the Lannisters and the pretender Robert Baratheon would not seek to kill every last remnant of the Targaryen family that resided in Westeros. They had no qualms in killing a child that was meant to be her. They would have no qualms to do it again. Prince Oberyn did not trust his brother either with this knowledge. He would not jeopardise their niece's safety. They had always seen Prince Oberyn as the more heated one, the one that could not keep calm and strategise, not like Prince Doran.

But he would do anything for Elia. He would do anything to keep the Princess Rhaenys safe.

When Prince Oberyn died, her secret could have died with him. She could have simply been Lady Nymeria Sand. Rhaenys Targaryen could truly die with him.

Nymeria could not see that happen. She could not see those who had sanctioned the murder of an innocent woman and her children be victorious in this story. It was unjust.

So upon the death of Prince Oberyn, Nymeria decided to confide in Tyene. Although they weren't truthfully sisters, Nym would always consider her as such. All the Sand Snakes were her sisters, not by nature but rather by nuture. They had been raised to be as such.

There was not much that could shock Lady Tyene Sand, but revealing that the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen had been hiding in plain sight had been one of them. While she did not doubt in her trust for Tyene, Nym had expressly forbidden her from informing Arianne or their sisters. Tyene was extremely close to their cousin and they told each other everything. The deception they played together had allowed for Princess Myrcella to lose an ear. Arianne would be tempted to tell Prince Doran about the fate of Rhaenys Targaryen.

Nymeria could not take that risk. They would all know in time.

~o~

Nym felt that her Uncle was keeping a secret from her and her sisters. She sensed that Arianne knew of his plans for all throughout the feast in Ser Balon's honour both of the Martell's tried to play the knight for a fool. Or in Arianne's case, seduce him to her side at least. It seemed that Ser Balon was more wary than his more handsome predecessor, Ser Arys Oakheart.

As soon as they left the table and helped their Uncle to his chambers, Obara launched into him, oblivious to the subtleties that were on display in front of the White Knight. Her anger was still present in every word, in every step. "You cannot seriously intend to send Trystane and Myrcella to King's Landing. Do that, and we will never see the girl again, and your son will spend his life a hostage to the Iron Throne."

Prince Doran sighed. "Do you take me for a fool, Obara? There is much you do not know. Things best not discussed here, where anyone can hear. If you hold your tongue, I may enlighten you. _Slower_ ," he motioned to his niece who wheeled his chair. "For the love you bear me. That last jolt sent a knife right through my knee."

Obara grunted and slowed her pace. Nymeria was curious at what her Uncle could know. "What will you do, then?"

Tyene spoke up. "What he always does. Delay, obscure, prevaricate. Oh, no one does that half as well as our brave uncle."

"You do him wrong," defended Arianne.

Prince Doran had enough. "Be quiet, all of you." The women all around him went silent as they approached and entered his solar. He wheeled himself to face the women that made up his family. Martell women were the strong ones. They were the warriors.

Princess Arianne ran to her father's side. "Let me help you, father."

The blanket that covered his legs had caught up under the wheel of his chair. He yanked it free before Arianne could help. His face was disgruntled and yet proud. "I can still master mine own blanket. That much at least."

Maester Caleotte bowed towards the Prince, scurrying around the Martell family with Ser Gregor's head clutched in his hands. "Shall I fetch my prince a thimble cup of milk of the poppy?"

"I would need a bucket, with this pain. Thank you, but no. I want my wits about me. I'll have no more need of you tonight."

The Maester bowed once more. "Very good, my prince."

Obara, who continued to be disgruntled over the whole day's events, snatched Ser Gregor's skull from the Maester's hands. "I'll take that," she said as she took it and began to analyse the skull. "What did the Mountain look like? How do we know that this is him? They could have dipped the head in tar. Why strip it to the bone?"

Nymeria had to agree with her sister. She did not trust the Lannisters to offer true redemption to her family. To see just punishment served for her mother and brother. "Tar would have ruined the box," she commented with a wry smile. "No one _saw_ the Mountain die, and no one saw his head removed. That troubles me, I confess, but what could the bitch queen hope to accomplish by deceiving us? If Gregor Clegane is alive, soon or late the truth will out. The man was eight feet tall, there is not another like him in all of Westeros. If any such appears again, Cersei Lannister will be exposed as a liar before all of the Seven Kingdoms. She would be an utter fool to risk that. What could she hope to gain?"

She had a lot of time to think over possible machinations of Cersei Lannister. She always had too much time to think. She would rather fight but she knew that she had to plan. Her father, her Oberyn, had taught her that much. She would not betray that teaching.

Prince Doran pondered Nymeria's words. "The skull is large enough, no doubt. And we know that Oberyn wounded Gregor grievously. Every report we have had since claims that Clegane died slowly, in great pain."

Nymeria noticed Tyene smile coyly. "Just as Father intended - sisters, truly, I know the poison Father used. If his spear so much as broke the Mountain's skin, Clegane is dead, I do not care how big he was. Doubt your little sister if you like, but never doubt our sire."

Obara bristled at the accusation and then did something that even Nymeria found disturbing, she mockingly kissed the skull of Ser Gregor. "I never did and never shall. This is a start, I'll grant."

Nymeria saw Ellaria Sand's eyes widen. Ellaria had been like a mother to Nym and her sisters as soon as she had become Oberyn's paramour. Yet, Ellaria was never trusted with the truth of her birth. "A _start?_ Gods forbid. I would it were a finish. Tywin Lannister is dead. So are Robert Baratheon, Amory Lorch, and now Gregor Cleganem all those who had a hand in murdering Elia and her children. Even Joffrey, who was not yet born when Elia died. I saw the boy perish with mine own eyes, clawing at his throat as he tried to draw a breath. Who else is there to kill? Do Myrcella and Tommen need to die so the shades of Rhaenys and Aegon can be at rest? Where does it end?"

Tyene and Nymeria shared a look at Ellaria's outburst. The shades of Rhaenys were very much alive. They could never be ' _put to rest_ ' as Ellaria phrased it. Nymeria wanted vengeance for her family. To her family's words, _Fire And Blood_ , she would be true.

"It ends in blood, as it began," Nym stated, her voice soft but filled with steel. They all knew she was deadly. "It ends when Casterly Rock is cracked open, so the sun can shine on the maggots and the worms within. It ends with the utter ruin of Tywin Lannister and all his works."

Ellaria snapped back at her. "The man died at the hand of his own son. What more could you wish?"

Her lips, as red as wine, curled in a knowing smile as she settled into a chair. Her hair was in its typical braid. It was long and dark and fell across one shoulder into her lap. Her leg crossed casually across the other, looking the image of sensuality, especially due to the yellow sheer silk of her garment.

"I could wish that he died at _my_ hand. If he had, his dying would not have been so easy."

Nymeria felt no qualms in stating this. Tywin Lannister was the reason that her true family was gone. Only her Aunt Daenerys remained. _And possibly one other_ , Nymeria mused internally, if she remembered the stories her _true_ father told her when she was only three. _But they both remain clueless to the survival of Rhaenys Targaryen_.

~o~

Nymeria sighed as she finally reached her bedchamber. She had no need of company tonight. Her thoughts were company enough. The conversation with their uncle had lasted a little longer. Ellaria had left in tears to return to her daughters. Prince Doran had made the three Sand Snakes remaining at the Old Palace to swear allegiance to him, an oath on their father's grave.

She had done so. Though she still thought Prince Oberyn the better man.

Prince Doran had laid out a task for them all. He would not be accompanying the Princess Myrcella Baratheon and Trystane back to King's Landing, that job was to now fall to Nymeria. She would be a new viper in a snake pit, the eyes and ears of Dorne. Cersei Lannister would not like a _bastard_ sitting on the small council. But it was better that she saw it that way. It would do Nym no good if they knew it was _Rhaenys Targaryen_ sitting there, advising on how to run a country that should be hers.

Her Uncle was not aware of this fact either. Otherwise he would never let her go.

She was much more valuable as a Princess than as a Bastard.

This was another reason that she kept this information secret.

It was a comfort to know that Tyene was given a task to complete in King's Landing as well. Her task was on the other hill though, in the Great Sept. The fact that Tyene's mother was a Septa and had read the _Seven-Pointed Star_ to her in her infant years was a blessing in this case. She was to learn the secrets that were being kept there. Apparently the Sword and Stars had re-formed and the new High Septon was not a puppet like the previous High Septons were.

Their Uncle wanted Tyene to become close to the High Septon in her disguise as a Septa. When she had been able to talk to her in private before heading to bed, they had both agreed that this was a good idea as well. If the High Septon was not loyal to this crown and to Queen Cersei, well they might be able to convince him that a new Queen was in order. Tyene had always been good at working people to a cause.

She would miss her sister but at least she would be in King's Landing with her, not like Obara who was tasked with hunting down Gerald Dayne.

As she fell to sleep, Nymeria dreamed of what she always did. She dreamed about sitting on the Iron Throne, the crown on her head. She dreamed of Dragons reborn. She dreamed of justice and vengeance. She dreamed of fire and blood.


	2. Nymeria II

**Chapter Two**

Nymeria II

* * *

It had taken a month for their travelling party to reach King's Landing, much to the annoyance of the Lannister knights that had accompanied the Princess Myrcella on her return home. They made good time considering they had to travel with a wheelhouse for the golden princess and Prince Trystane but then she _had_ been determined. Snow had started to fall as soon as they travelled through the Stormlands.

She despised the cold. She was born for the sun and warm weather.

She was grateful for the golden fur-lined coat that her Uncle had gifted her on their departure. She had never had need for one before. She did not typically feel the cold – her dragon blood ran warm and even the cold Dornish nights did not faze her. This snow, however, brought a chill to her bone.

Tyene departed before they reached the River Gate. If she was to spy on this High Septon, it would not do well to be seen with entourage. They only hoped that Myrcella had enough sense not to mention the third-born Sand Snakes presence in the Capital.

The rest of the party moved past the fishmongers, under the River Gate and through the streets until they reached the Red Keep. The castle sat red and ominous in the skyline, sitting on top of Aegon's Hill. Her stomach dropped at the sight and her mouth dried. She had not been in the capital – and the castle - since she was three years old. _This is where I was born_ , she thought. _This is where my mother and brother died_.

For the past month, she had not allowed herself to think about what entering the Red Keep would mean.

This had been her home. She should have grown up here. She should have been a Princess – a King's daughter and later, a King's sister.

Instead she came here as a bastard.

But one day she was determined for it to be hers once more.

 _For her mother, father, uncle and brother, she would avenge._

In all her wildest dreams though, she had not imagined the arrival that they received. As they entered the walls that protected the Red Keep, it seemed that the castle was abandoned. No one stood and proclaimed their arrival. It was strange and Nymeria didn't do strange. Travelling between Sunspear to King's Landing, she had been on edge. She had waited for those planning to attack her cousin and had even directed them on another path much to the chagrin and protests of the Lannister knights but nothing out of the ordinary happened.

That should have been the first sign that something was amiss.

A lack of fanfare for the kingdom's _only_ Princess was the second.

She had been allowing her emotions to blind her. She would need to keep them in check now that she was _home_.

A rather heavy set man came tottering over to the party with a mix of Martell, Lannister and Baratheon Banners flying among them. The man had a rather red face from the exertion of walking as quickly as he could. She half noticed that Trystane and Myrcella had made their way out of the wheelhouse. She begrudgingly dismounted from her own horse - being astride her sandy mare always made her feel stronger, safer and in control.

But the man in front of her wore the pin of the Hand of the King she noticed as he moved closer. It would be disrespectful if she didn't. A White Knight limped behind him.

She reminded herself that her Uncle needed her to play the game of thrones for Dorne. She reminded herself that she needed to play the game of thrones for her _deceased_ family.

He bowed his head towards the Prince and Princess, ignoring Nymeria. "Your highnesses."

Both greeted the man warmly before he started to look around. "Where is his grace Prince Doran? Is he still in the wheelhouse?" he asked, his eyes trying to peer inside.

Nymeria immediately saw this as the third thing amiss.

She went and stood in front of her cousin and his betrothed. "My lord…"

"Lord Mace Tyrell," he replied, his chest puffing out proudly. "Lord of Highgarden, Hand of the King and father of Queen Margaery."

Nymeria smiled sweetly back at him. To win this man's trust she sensed that she needed to channel as much of Tyene as possible. He looked like a man that could be won over with sweet words and a pleasant disposition. Highgarden – and King's Landing – were different to Dorne. They did not respect their bastards. Dorne saw them as gifts of passion – worthy of position. The other kingdoms viewed them as the scum of the Earth. She would have to try her hardest not to offend the man.

"Did you not receive word my lord? A raven was sent to Ser Kevan Lannister. The Prince, my uncle, is unable to attend court and the High Council. He has sent me in his stead, to speak for Dorne."

The Lord of Highgarden looked flustered. "A raven? Ser Kevan?" he squeaked. "No… no… I knew none of that. And you are exactly?"

"Lady Nymeria Sand," she replied, taking his clammy hand into her own. "Though my friends call me Lady Nym. We are to be friends aren't we Lord Mace."

He face turned an even darker shade of red. "He sent a bastard?"

"A Sand Snake," her smile not wavering. She could see it unnerving him. "Lord Oberyn's second born. Our family values each other no matter which side of the sheets we were conceived."

Lord Mace seemed to be having an internal battle with himself. Her _low birth_ would offend his delicate sensibilities but he would fear the wrath of Dorne if he turned her away. Despite the fact that all of her _sisters_ preferred to spend their time in Dorne and had rarely travelled beyond its borders once their father had collected them – _except Sarella of course. She is off in Oldtown with her books and her deceptions_ – the stories of the Red Viper of Dorne and his Sand Snakes were well known. Or at least so her father Oberyn had said.

He finally relented and nodded, though he pulled his hand from her grasp. _Baby steps_ , she thought mildly to herself as the Hand of the King motioned for the White Knight to escort Princess Myrcella and Prince Trystane to their respective chambers. Nymeria was reluctant to have her cousin leave her sight this soon but she knew that she could not keep an eye on him at all hours. She needed to be a diligent member of the High Council – _for another King's reign_ – and could hardly babysit Trystane at the same time.

The rest of the swords that traveled with them where quickly leaving and taking their horses to the stables, all happy to finally have time to rest after their relentless travel. Her Uncle had sent with her many swords, swords he was hoping to place in the City Guard. Guards that would be loyal to Dorne, Prince Trystane and Lady Nymeria. They needed spies among the common people and she was meaning to ask the Hand of it as soon as she could but the man seemed troubled so she held off.

Lord Mace was looking around nervously – as if a viper was about to strike at any moment.

And yet she doubted that she was the viper he was worried about.

Once the majority had moved away and were out of earshot, Lord Mace spoke again. "We are glad to have the services of Dorne though. Terrible tidings are coming from every corner of the realm. Even within this great keep."

He motioned for her to follow him, a squire already relieving her of her horse. Her cloak still firmly around her shoulders; it seemed to be colder in the castle than outside – she supposed it was the inhabitants within that added the extra chill.

He ushered her up through the maze of the castle and led her into a large room. None of what she saw looked familiar, though she supposed that it wouldn't. She was only three when she was forced to leave this place. A long table stood in the centre of the room, nine chairs sat around the table as well as a throne on one end.

The King's chair.

The chair that should be hers by right of birth.

"The small council chamber," motioned Lord Mace with a flourish of his hand. He then sat down in the chair that sat directly opposite the throne at the other end of the table before gesturing for Nymeria to take the seat next to him. She sat shrugged off her travelling cloak, placing it on the back of the chair. She noticed that Lord Mace was eyeing her body. He was not subtle at all as his eyes roamed her brown-tight clad legs, gold riding tunic and the decent cleavage it encased. She refrained from rolling her eyes.

She coughed, bringing the Hand's attention back to the matter at hand. "You spoke of ill tidings my lord?"

"Yes, yes," he replied, his cheeks burning red from embarrassment. He need not worry as she was used to both men and women staring at her. She wasn't about to run and tell his wife that he had appreciated the body of another female. "Where to start… where to start… well, the first ill tiding is that Ser Kevan Lannister, our Regent, was killed in Maester Pycelle's tower two nights earlier, Pycelle's body was found there as well. It was a horrid sight that no such lady… such as yourself... should have to bear witness too."

Lord Mace's faces seemed to turn as green as his robes at the mention. It explained at least why Lord Mace did not know of her arrival in her Uncle's place.

"Queen Cersei is beside herself with grief for her beloved Uncle," he muttered. He did not seem convinced or happy. "She believes that we Tyrells have something to do with it as retaliation after all that has happened but I told her that…"

"Sorry my lord, what has happened?" she interrupted.

He looked confused for a moment. "Why Queen Margaery and Queen Cersei's arrests?"

Nymeria stared at him blankly. "Arrested? Why on Earth would two Queens of Westeros be arrested. The King would not dare to arrest his wife and mother surely?"

"Did Prince Doran did not inform you?"

"I've been travelling for a month my lord. Ravens were not sent to me on our travels."

He nodded and muttered. "Of course, of course. Both of them are to be tried for the crimes of adultery and treason. Cersei was meant to have hers yesterday but after what happened to her uncle… she chose trial by combat you see while my Margaery wishes to be tried by the seven. Of course they are not guilty."

"Of course, my lord," she agreed. Margaery most likely, Cersei was not so sure of. Even in Dorne they had heard rumours of the former Queen.

He sighed. He seemed exhausted. She could not blame him. "It is this new High Septons doing."

Nymeria scoffed. "You do not favour the seven?"

He looked stunned at the accusation and his mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish. "Of course I believe in the Seven. I pray every day for the release of my daughter. For the King's health. What blasphemy?" He sighed once more. "This High Septon though…"

 _I suppose this new High Septon will not approve of me,_ Nymeria thought. She had the pleasure of meeting the Queen of Thorns, Margaery's grandmother before and she doubted that the girl would be stupid enough to go against the King – not with her grandmother's guidance. Tommen was the third King that she had married. It was plain enough that the girl was desperate to be Queen of Westeros.

Cersei on the other hand, well Nymeria would not doubt that the accusations were true. She was no fan of the Lannister Queen – nor her family – but the rumours heard in Dorne were plain enough. That her three children had been sired by her brother and not her husband was wildly known. Nymeria never held this against the children though. There was enough inbreeding and incest in her own family line. Her own grandparents, Rhaella and Aerys had been brother and sister.

Her father – Rhaegar – seemed to have a distaste for the notion though. He married a Princess of Dorne instead. _And a she-wolf of the North._

"And that is just the issues within the capital. The Ironborn stirring up trouble in the West, there is this supposed Dragon Queen… that Daenerys Targaryen causing trouble in the East and this pretender landing in Storm's End…"

"Pretender?" she asked, sitting up straight.

Lord Mace blinked a few times. "Oh," he replied. "Of course you would not have heard. Apparently Aegon Targaryen has risen from the dead." He scoffed. "He was apparently smuggled out as a baby. A pretender I'm sure. Many saw the child dead at Ser Gregor Clegane's hand… admittedly no one could actually make out the child… not like Princess Rhaenys. But a pretender no less… he will be quickly dealt with I'm sure. We are hoping for the help of Dorne with these threats…"

Nymeria's blood had run cold at what Lord Mace had told her. Aegon. Her little brother Aegon was alive. _Alive_. He was breathing, healthy and ready to claim his throne. She wanted to cry for joy. She also wanted to be sick. She did not doubt that this pretender _could_ be her brother. After all, everyone was convinced that they had seen her body on the floor in the throne room that fateful day yet she had been shipped off to Dorne – a poor common Dornish bastard put in her place. _They never looked at the eyes, it would have given it away. And this boy... he may be my brother but he may not be just the same._

She did not want to get her hopes up that another member of her family survived.

It has always been a blessing that her eyes were such a dark shade of purple, so dark that they could pass for black. Purple flecks could be seen in the right lighting but no one ever commented on it. Prince Oberyn had said that she had got them from her father. The only feature she supposed that she had inherited from the man. The rest of her looked like Elia. The rest of her looked like a Martell. It was said that Aegon was the one that resembled their father.

If this was her brother, surely she would know when she saw him.

Something in her blood would call out to him surely.

 _But where had he been? Why was he not with me?_

Her mind was racing and before she could respond to the Lord of Highgarden, a young serving girl draped in the colours of House Tyrell came running into the room. She was heaving, clearly out of breath and bobbed a curtsey quickly. Lord Mace narrowed his eyes at the girl. "I'm so sorry milord, milady" she said, bobbing another curtsey, "but you must come now. You must come to the stable yard quickly. It is Ser Jaime. He has returned milord and he does not fare well. Quickly, please milord."

Nymeria was quick to her feet but Lord Mace was flustered as he got to his. "Does the Queen Mother know?"

The serving girl shook her head. "Not by my voice milord."

"Good, good," he muttered as they made their way back to where she had arrived.

"The Commander of the Kingsguard has been missing?" she asked. _How messed up was this council?_

"Aye," Lord Mace replied gravely. "Lost in the Riverlands by last account."

Nymeria nodded curtly. She hated Ser Jaime as much as she hated Lord Tywin. Not that she had ever met the man but he _had_ been the one to murder her grandfather - Mad King or no. He had handed King's Landing over to that usurper. He had been in the capital and had not saved her mother. He was on the Kingsguard at the time and he had a duty to care for the royal family and yet, he had betrayed his solemn oath.

 _A White knight and blonde_ , she thought bitterly. _The only White Knight in King's Landing at the Sacking._

She only had vague memories of the worst day of her life. Sometimes she wondered if more of her memories were based on recollections given to her by Oberyn rather than her own mind. He only spoke of a Blonde man - he never spoke the Knights name. She only remembered a Blonde man. Putting the facts together always lead to the same conclusion in Nymeria's mind but she refused to address it. She would not be beholden to _that_ man.

She refused to put that man's face in the dreams that haunted her.

If she did, she might not hate him so much. She might think that he still had a shred of humanity.

Nymeria was vaguely aware of the way they were walking until they were back out in the familiar courtyard.

Standing before them was Jaime Lannister his clothes ripped, bloodied bandages across his body. Large gouges across his face and purple bruises wrapped around his throat. His golden hand was still strapped upon his wrist. She had heard vaguely of how he lost it. Beside him stood an extremely tall woman and a young lad, both in just as bad of shape as the Kingslayer.

Lord Mace started fluttering around giving orders but her eyes were focused on this man. _The Knight that saved her life_ , she thought bitterly. That didn't stop her hatred for his family but she wasn't going to kill him. Not here. Not today. Not when he still held a life debt over her head. She wanted a fair fight when she did kill him. She wanted it to mean something to her.

She hated that when she looked at him, she thought him handsome despite his injuries.

She despised herself – _and him_ – for that.

As she mused this, cat-green eyes meet her deep purple. Whatever colour had still been there drained from Jaime's face as soon as he saw her. It was like he had seen a ghost. She mused that perhaps he had.

He started to sway and he spoke one final word before his world succumbed to darkness.

"Elia?"

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~o~

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 **AN:** Thank you to everyone that has reviewed, favourited and followed this story. It means a lot so thank you. I am hoping to get a new chapter written and out to you all at least once a week. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well. Thank you for reading.


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